


Don't Fear the Reaper

by nomsie500



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angels of Death, Death, Grim Reaper - Freeform, Sickness, dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:42:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9087418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomsie500/pseuds/nomsie500
Summary: "Go to him," he whispered to me as I raised a trembling hand. "Don't be scared, it's just the Reaper."





	

Alexander Hamilton was sick, very sick. It happened so suddenly, one moment, Alexander was eating dinner with his family, the next, he was lying in a hospital bed, struggling to breathe with the help of life support.

Alexander knew he was going to die. After taunting death for many years, he knew it was his time. Alexander had been in the hospital for about a month at this point, and the feeling of death had sunk into his bones about a week ago. He had said goodbye to Eliza, his children, and all of his friends over the course of that week. In fact, Eliza had just left to go home and get some rest with the reassurance that Alexander would still be there tomorrow, patiently awaiting death. Alexander knew he was lying to her though, he knew he wan't going to survive the night.

Once Eliza had left, Alexander burrowed himself down into the thin mattress of his hospital bed and awaited death. A half an hour later, Alexander was startled by someone entering his room. He turned to the door and was shocked to find Thomas Jefferson standing in the doorway. Jefferson smiled and walked over to Alexander's beside pulling out a chair to sit on.

"Good evening, Hamilton. You're probably wondering what I'm doing here," Jefferson stated with a smile. Alexander just simply nodded his head.

"Well, you already know that you're going to die; I can tell you're waiting for the eternal sleep to wash over you. That is exactly why I'm here, actually. I am an angel of death," Jefferson explained.

Alexander gapped at him, "You're shitting me right now."

"I'm afraid not, dearest Hamilton. I was proclaimed an angel of death roughly two hundred years ago, when I killed everyone living in my village," Jefferson laughs. "Instead of being damned to Hell for eternity, I was taken in by the Reaper to be one of his angels of death. It is my job to make sure people accept their fate and go to the Reaper when it's time."

"I'm not scared of the embodiment of death. I've already accepted that this is my fate, you shouldn't even be here telling me all of this," Alexander proclaimed.

"This is where you're wrong, Hamilton. You see, people think they are completely ready for death, that they will accept their fate with open arms, but that just simply isn't true. When people come face to face with the Reaper, they see their life flash before their eyes, they are reminded of what they will be leaving behind in death and suddenly feel as though they can't move on from their earthly existence. That's what angels of death are for, they're there to make sure that everyone moves to the other side when their time comes," Jefferson explained.

"I still don't believe you," Alexander grumbled.

"I know, just you wait," Jefferson stated.

They wait in silence for another hour until the hospital room becomes dead silent and the temperature drops significantly. A black mist starts filtering into the room and a dark shadowy figure appears in the middle of the room. Alexander all of the sudden feels a wave of terror at the sight of this figure, and that terror only doubles when the figure reaches a hand out to him.

"Go to him," Jefferson prompts. "The sooner you go, the easier it will be."

"But what if it isn't my time?" Alexander asks.

"You've flirted with death too many times for this not to be the right one. Don't fear the Reaper, Hamilton, just go," Jefferson says while giving Alexander a little nudge.

Alexander gives a shaky nod and gets out of bed on trembling legs. He takes a few shaky steps towards the Reaper and takes his hand. In a flash of bright white light, he's gone.

Jefferson smiles as Alexander and the Reaper disappear. He heaves himself off of the hospital bed, and heads back home to have a drink.


End file.
